


It Begins at the End

by ultraangst



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, D&D can suck it, Dark!Sansa, Depression, F/M, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Joffrey Baratheon is His Own Warning, Nightmares, Queen Sansa, Ramsay is His Own Warning, Sansa and Theon deserve their happy ending, Sansa and Theon lives matter, Sansa is a badass, Season/Series 01, Season/Series 08, The Starks deserve better, Theon is a good man who deserves better, Theonsa - Freeform, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, Visions, cuddling for warmth, there is a happy ending i promise
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-09
Updated: 2019-05-13
Packaged: 2020-02-28 23:47:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18766828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ultraangst/pseuds/ultraangst
Summary: Theon Greyjoy x Sansa Stark"If I could go back and bring him back to me, I would."The one where Melisandre takes Sansa's words literally and turns back the sands of time; back to her childhood. Everything changes after that.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The fic chapter draws inspiration from LaughingSenselessly's "How You Stay Alive" which is my favorite bellarke fanfic. After this chapter though, it's all original content. 
> 
> Enjoy!!

*Unedited*

When Sansa emerges from her entombment, an overwhelming feeling of loss had washed over her in a rapid rip current, dragging her deeper and deeper out to sea. Piles of bodies surrounded the small crowd of people who had escaped the crypts.

It would take ages to bury all the bodies, time which they didn't have. They would have to burn them.

She thought for a moment that it might be best to burn all of Winterfell to the ground; it would rid of the carnage, rid of the scent that would linger in the air forever. The purging of darkness would cleanse the grounds and bring it back to the state it was in during her infancy-a time that had seemed so long ago.

The knife she had been holding so tightly began to loosen as Arya came into view. A triumphant smile graced the young woman's face, a sign Sansa took as victory. Arya ran to her sister, wrapping her arms around her, only to find that Sansa was shaking in fear of the hours she had just endured.

There was relief too because she hadn't lost Arya. Nothing good lasts.

_Who have I lost?_

A sinking feeling came over her.

"Bran?" Sansa asked with words weighted beyond belief.

"He's alive. I got to them just in time."

_Them._

"Them?" Sansa asked, hope laced in her frail voice.

"Bran and the Night King. I was able to stab him," Arya's face fell just the slightest, knowing that what would come next would hurt. Before she could say anything, Sansa asked, "And Theon?"

Arya swallowed and just shook her head. What could she say? If she had just been there a moment faster, maybe he would still be alive. Arya wasn't about to turn Sansa against her.

Sansa seemed to be in a state of shock and the idea that she would never get to tell him what he needed to hear. She would never tell him how she cared about him.

Just when she thought the world would stand still, just for a moment to let her grieve, she was swept away to meetings discussing what to even do next. Sansa interjected when necessary and put on a brave face, but inside, some part of her was floating away and she didn't know how to reel the feeling in. There was a tightness in her chest that she hadn't ever experienced before.

_Theon was dead._

And that was the sinking feeling she feared would never go away. She was drowning in it.

Another dreadful thought came when she realized she would have to tell his sister, Yara, of his death. She couldn't return his body to her, she was certain that he would never make his way to her. To the ocean.

She really didn't want to let him go either, and maybe that was selfish, but she didn't know how to process anything else. She didn't want him to go.

 _He's already gone_ , she whispered in her head. _He won't care what you do to him now._

From across the room, the Mother of Dragons wore a similar expression on her ivory face. She had lost someone she loved too.

The meeting ends.

Sansa finds herself at the opening of Godswood, surrounded by hordes of dead men. In the middle of it all is Theon, crumpled in a heap around a spear.

When Sansa's eyes adjust to the darkness, she notices the stream of blood dribbling down his chin.

Knowing he's dead and actually seeing it are two different things, she realizes. With one, she can dismiss it so easily because it's only a conjuring of her imagination. With the other, there is no room for denial. He has been ripped away from the world much too quickly.

His ocean green eyes are eternally closed and, for a moment, she has to pretend he is asleep in order to pull herself together. It doesn't last long.

A small sob escapes her lips as she lowers herself down to the ground to meet him. Without hesitation, she takes his cold head in her hands and gently wipes the streak of blood from his lips; the act itself brings a new bought of tears to her.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you..." she cries and presses her forehead to his own. She wishes he was warm. "I'm so sorry, Theon."

There are a million things she could tell him now, but it's too late, and the lack of a response would only break her more and more. She could only hope that in his dying moments he knew that she loved him deeply. As much as Catelyn loved Eddard. As much as Eddard loved Catelyn.

Sansa Stark's sobs wreck her body as she cries with her love in her arms. She would give anything to just tell him; she just needed a fleeting breath to whisper the words that she never had the strength to tell him.

She runs her thumb over the soft skin his prominent cheekbones, which already began to sink in the recesses of his bones. Already, he was slipping through her fingers and all she could do was apologize for being too late. Somehow, Sansa knew she would blame herself for his death forever. He said he came back to fight for Winterfell, to further redeem himself in the eyes of her family, but deep down, Sansa knew the truth.

Theon Greyjoy came back for her and that was one of many burdens that weighed in her chest.

"It has been a long night, Your Grace," a voice whispers from the shadows. The sun has hardly come up and it takes Sansa a moment to locate the red in the shadows. The Red Priestess.

Sansa grips Theon's armor just a little tighter out of instinct. To protect him.

"What is it you want, witch?" Sansa seethes through clenched teeth. The woman steps out of the shadows, revealing her long, maroon hair that had not yet touched the sun's rays.

"If he hadn't sacrificed himself, your sister wouldn't have been able to kill the Night King. His sacrifice won't go unnoticed." The words angered Sansa to no end and all she can mutter is,"No one here gives a damn about Theon and his sacrifice, except for me. I always..."

She wants to say more but she can't bring herself to do it.

"Will you let his memory die?" the red woman asks, with a line of bait at the end of it. She only wanted a reaction out of the crying woman.

"Of course not," she says without hesitation. Sansa would carry his memory around from now until she was at her own grave; however, she would be the only one who cared about his sacrifice. His sacrifice which saved everyone.

"If you could bring back your betrothed now, would you?" The red woman asks only a few feet behind her.

_Betrothed._

Sansa imagines Theon stirring to life under her, opening his green eyes and saying something that would move her to tears. But those were dreams of a child.

"Stop it," Sansa begs and stares down at Theon, caressing his cold cheek.

"If you could start over, would you-"

"Leave me alone! Can't you see I'm trying to let him go?" Sansa is gasping for breath now. She doesn't know which direction is up now. She just sobs and holds him and it is hardly enough. "Of course! If I could go back and bring him back to me, I would. Without hesitation. No matter what because that is what we did. We protected each other and I-I failed him."

The red woman, the witch, stands above the couple. Sansa can't bring herself to look at her, in the fear that maybe she had imagined the whole thing. She can hear the woman's ragged breath escaping her ancient lips.

"So be it," the witch murmurs. The wind picks up. And stills. Picks up again, only to fall once more. The woman whispers something and then she is gone, fading away to dust around Sansa as the sun hits her red locks. The Lady of Winterfell is finally left alone to cry over the body of the man she loved but was too afraid to tell.

She is found a few minutes later by Jon, who finds the time to wrap his warm arms around her, something they haven't done in quite some time. The whole world fades away when he orders that Theon and the rest of the dead to the front yard. There, they would be reduced to nothing but ash.

The thought of sending a raven to Yara is beyond unsettling. How does one even begin to put what she was feeling into words?

She was the only one who could though.

There was nobody else to vouch for Theon and the words would be weightless if not from her.

Sansa wears a mask from that moment on until dusk when she has to say her goodbyes once more. Theon is amongst the rest of the dead, but he is the only one that she notices.

The flames pick up around her and, in a moment of desperation, Sansa leans her lips down to Theon's cold ear. She whispers the fated words.

"I love you."

She does something unexpected and places a gentle kiss on his cold lips. It's something delicate and something that would never be reciprocated, but for a moment, it was something good. It was almost enough. It was a first and a last all at the same time.

Sansa pulls back. Places the Stark pin in his armor. Gives him one final glance over before leaving him to be enveloped in flames.

**That is where their story begins.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TIME TRAVEL HAS BEGUN!! (Just to clarify: Sansa has no memory of her "past life"...for now)
> 
> Sansa wakes up in a younger version of herself; days before the Royal Family arrives to Winterfell. Catelyn is the best mom, confirmed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is all unedited so pls don't judge too hard. I'm also terrible at writing. But I want to write this because I'm in pain. Once it's finished, I'll edit things; however, I don't have the strength to proofread rn. This chapter is just setting everything up, sorry it's so boring. The good stuff is coming very soon though. Not very Theonsa heavy yet.

*Unedited*

Sansa wakes in a bed of furs with a strange bubbling feeling warming her insides. The scent of roses wraps her up and allows for her eyes to flutter open in curiosity.

Something was unexplainably different.

"Lady Sansa," Septa Mordane's voice calls through the walls of her Winterfell room. "Are you ready for your lessons?"

The girl sat upright quicker than she should've; she'd suddenly felt sick from the movement.

"Yes, I'll be a moment," Sansa said loud enough for the elderly woman to hear. Through the door, the woman huffed and muttered, "I'll wake Arya. Meet in the Hall."

The woman sauntering footsteps are heard from outside Sansa's chamber doors. Sansa's lateness had shocked her quite a bit; she was never late to wake or to her lessons.

She hurriedly dresses herself simply and ties back half of her fiery curls. From the quickness, a soft rouge comes to her cheeks. Sansa pats down the dress and gives it a once over, making sure there were no stains that could potentially bring her shame. Septa Mordane was already annoyed with her today; it was best not to tempt her anger more.

Once Sansa has composed her still sleep-filled body, she eloquently dashed out the door to her chamber and down the halls of her home, making her way to the Hall, where she found Arya, still half-asleep with her head practically falling into her porridge.

"Good morning, sister," she teases and flicks the back of the girl's head. Arya groans. "Where's Septa Mordane?"

Sansa looks over her shoulder, hoping the elderly woman wasn't there to ridicule her for harassing Arya.

"Probably thinking of all the ways she can make our lives miserable," Arya says and shoves a spoon in her mouth, not in a ladylike fashion. Sansa chuckled softly to herself.

"It's not her fault that you aren't willing to learn," says Sansa as she sits down to the table. "You just don't like to cooperate."

Arya lets out a "hmph" sound and groans over the flavorless porridge. Sansa would agree that it wasn't the best batch.

A familiar shuffling of feet comes behind the duo, interrupting their lackluster silence.

"Eat quickly, Ladies. We're behind schedule because neither of you were able to rouse yourselves awake." With that command, Arya shovels the food down her throat in an animalistic manner. Typically, Lord Mordane would correct the child; however, her eyes seemed to hover over Sansa, who appeared to be a little paler than she had the night before. "I'm especially surprised by you, Lady Sansa. This attitude is very out of character."

"I don't know why I slept so deeply," Sansa murmured with a small shrug.

The woman dismissed Sansa's peculiar attitude rather easily because she knew it was probably a one time thing.

The girl's finished their meals just as Robb and Theon entered.

For the faintest second, Sansa's eyes locked on the Greyjoy heir's and something in her reached out. She couldn't identify the feeling; it wasn't one she'd ever felt before, but it was warm and...weird?

His stormy eyes borne into hers and for a moment, she couldn't find it in herself to break away from it. He, in turn, looked away quickly, not taking Sansa's strange looks at him too seriously.

Robb plunked himself down at the head of the table with Theon on his left. Her cerulean blue eyes followed the ward.

Maybe he did something with his hair, she thought. It definitely had to be the hair.

Sansa had not been ignorant to Theon's looks before today; she'd always known of his charm and willingness to lead whores into bed, but this was different. He wasn't trying. It was Sansa's own mind which willed her to look at the young man in a slightly different light from the morning before.

What had gotten into her?

The young man caught her eye, once more, and over Robb and Arya's conversation, he muttered something that sounded like, "What're you looking at?"

Sansa held his stormy-eyed gaze for a moment more and whispered an, "Oh, sorry," to cover her naive foolishness. Theon turned away, mulling over Sansa's minor indiscretion as he shoved the porridge around. He wasn't hungry anymore, but he couldn't excuse himself just yet.

Sansa looked back to her septa, who advised that the girls begin their lessons for the day. Arya protested only with a groan, but it was useless. The two girls followed the elderly woman out of the Hall, leaving Theon wondering what had transpired between him and the girl who never looked his way.

\---

A strange warmth embeds itself at Sansa's middle as she weaves and embroiders her latest work. It's a large rose.

Her septa seemed fairly impressed by the girl's handiwork and forgot about Sansa's strange actions from the early morning. Sansa herself had dismissed it as being a night of restless sleep which clouded her mind.

She couldn't explain her sudden pull to Theon though. The girl let her work consume as a way to override the thoughts she was getting about the ward.

Her septa's words interrupt her thoughts.

"The royal family will be here in a two weeks time, Lady Sansa. Have you given much thought to that?"

_The Royal Family._

There was talk of a betrothal between Prince Joffrey and the young lass in the quiet evenings at dinner. Sansa couldn't lie to herself, she was excited. Being married into royalty would not only bring pride to her house, but also mean she would be queen once King Robert stepped down from the throne.

 _Sansa, a Queen_.

All of her childish fantasies would be coming true in the very near future.

She fantasized that her prince would be like a knight, rescuing her from the cold of the North and taking her South. He would have her, Sansa Stark of Winterfell, as his Queen. That was the dream of every girl in Westeros, noble or not.

There is some talk between Jeyne and Septa Mordane about the prince that captures Sansa's attention to no end. She was ready to meet him soon so she could begin learning the ways of being a queen.

Arya had her nose turned up to the whole conversation, struggling deeply with her piece and trying her best to make it just right. However, it wasn't working.

Sansa almost stepped in to help her sister, but Arya being Arya, pulled away from Sansa's gentle hands and turned her back to her. The elder sister sighs deeply and catches sight of the boys from the window.

Robb and Theon were teaching Bran how to shoot, while Jon helped Rickon on to a saddle. It was quite a sight to see them all working together to cheer on the young boy, even when he missed nearly every shot. Theon had stepped up and adjusted the boy's stance, earning a groan from Bran.

Sansa completely tuned out her septa's words until they were turned on her.

"...King's Landing."

The woman had directed her conversation at Sansa. The girl whipped around, nearly stabbing herself with the needle at the quickness.

"Pardon?" Sansa asked with brows raised. Jeyne had chuckled softly to herself.

"I said, 'You'll most likely be leaving with the royals to King's Landing.' Are you excited for that?"

The question weighed down on Sansa and she pondered on the thought of truly leaving home. Of course, all her teachings had prepared her for the inevitable idea that she would end up going to foreign lands to marry a noble man and produce his heirs.

She was excited for the adventure of it and also the idea that thousands would be dependent on her. The masses would love her, that she knew for sure.

"I'm willing to do whatever it takes for my people. Aye, Septa Mordane, I am ready to meet the prince and marry him, if he'll have me."

The septa seemed pleased with her response. She had turned back to Jeyne, conversing in how they would prepare Sansa in the coming weeks.

Lady Sansa made finishing touches on her rose while listening to the laughs of the men down below.

\---

The day the royal family arrives to Winterfell, is a day that Sansa won't ever forget. She'd spent hours getting ready that morning, straightening out her dress and adjusting her hair until every bit of it was strategically placed.

Unlike the boys, who only needed a shave, Sansa had been poked and prodded by nearly every woman in Winterfell. However, it was Catelyn Stark who did Sansa's hair before the Baratheon's had arrived.

"I know I don't need to tell you what's expected," she started and she gently braided the top of her head, "but I'm depending on you to be on your best behavior."

Sansa scoffed; she didn't need to be told this.

"Did you inform Arya of your wishes?" Sansa asked with hands folded in her lap. Catelyn laughs just the slightest bit.

"You already know I have, but there's no use wrangling that girl. I just need to know I can depend on you," she said and rested her hand on her eldest's daughters shoulders.

"You can, Mother," she said gently and rested her hand on her mother's. "Always."

Jeyne enters at that moment, unintentionally interrupting the intimate moment between mother and daughter.

"I have some final things that need to be dealt with before they arrive. Will you and Jeyne find Arya?" her mother asks as she removes her hands and makes her way to the door.

Jeyne bows her head slightly and Sansa nods in understanding. As Lady Catelyn leaves, the faint smile on Jeyne's face brightens and she turns to her friend.

"When you marry Prince Joffrey, we'll go to King's Landing," she said excitingly, "Isn't that wonderful?"

Jeyne took Sansa's hands in her own and they laugh like children.

"You'll join me in King's Landing?" Sansa asked, seemingly shocked that Jeyne would follow her.

"What else would they have me do, Sansa? I'm with you for all of it," the girl smiled at her best friend.

"Thank you, Jeyne," Sansa whispered. The idea of leaving Winterfell became a million times easier.

"Let's go find that rascal," Jeyne said and offered an arm to the future Queen of Westeros. Sansa gladly took it with a wide smile on her cheeks.

They could've found her too if Robb and Bran hadn't interrupted them with Theon in tow. They all wore smug grin's on their shaven faces, probably thinking that this whole ordeal was a joke. The teasing began from that moment and all Sansa could do was defend herself and even Prince Joffrey's honor.

She hadn't even met the prince and she was already defending him. There was a tug-of-war between all of them, to the point where finding Arya was completely forgotten. It went on until someone at the wall yelled, "Open the gates!"

"The Prince is hardly a man," Theon said, in a tone Sansa couldn't recognize. She didn't know why it was any of his business to even mess with her like he was. 

"One may say the same about you," Sansa retorted, earning a small laugh from Robb. Theon cursed under his breath.

The Starks lined up in front with Theon and Jon behind them, hidden like they were ashamed of them. Catelyn looked her children up and down and then, "Where's Arya?" Sansa had completely forgotten about her sister.

The girl shrugged carelessly, forgetting about everything except for the royals, who would be coming through their gates at any moment.

Arya burst on the scene a moment later with a hat and a smear of dirt across her cheek. Ned smiled at the mongrel while Catelyn sighed, making last minute adjustments to the child who didn't seem to understand her place in any of this.

"Oh my child," she murmured and stuck Arya next to Bran, who held his head up high. Catelyn brushed her own dress and glanced over at her husband. His eyes had grown heavy with age and his skin seemed to sag just a bit. It was a stunning realization that she made. He was getting older.

She looked over at Robb, the heir to Winterfell, and felt a strange tug at her heartstrings. One of these days, they would be gone and he would be ruling Winterfell.

Catelyn knew Robb would do right by them.

The royals entered Winterfell.

Sansa caught Joffrey's eye.

She smiled.

Theon stared at the back of her head, enchanted by her ruby-colored hair.

For a moment, he didn't know if he loved her or hated her. 

Everything changes after that.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm in a lot of pain over season 8 and I'm hoping that this will help me heal. Comment thoughts and maybe future ideas of where you would potentially want this to go. I love Sansa and Theon's dynamic and I literally just want to rewrite the entire show in their favor. Idk. Lemme know what you think and hopefully I will have some more chapters soon!


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